


No Control

by Chosca



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cheating, Clothed Sex, Implied Relationships, M/M, Office Sex, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-19 01:27:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7338976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chosca/pseuds/Chosca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There comes a time when Rhett ignores what's right, and Link is no help in the least.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Control

**Author's Note:**

> It was late, I couldn't get it out of my head. Please pardon any mistakes, unless you'd like to kindly point them out 8)

 

"Humping...it's not..." Link's voice wavers, seemingly battling with his mind, "..It's not... _sex_ right?"

Rhett opens his mouth to respond; it's routine by this point when Link says something ludicrous. But, instead of going through with it, his mouth shuts. If Link saw it that way, there really weren't any issues, were there?

He loved his wife, he couldn't leave his children behind. They meant the world to him.

But...Link. His lifelong best friend, his object of desire for longer than he was willing to admit. He meant the world too. Rhett never had the opportunity to find any new information about that side of himself in the environment they were raised in. By the time he felt...validated, it was too late. He'd fallen in love with a beautiful woman. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

His family never held doubt in Rhett's mind. But neither did his feelings toward Link, at least not until recently.

"I guess," he replies in a small voice. Link's face changes. Rhett can tell when Link's internally panicking. Fearing the risk of Link having an anxiety attack, Rhett's words tumble from his mouth.

"We don't have a lot of time. Come here."

"Rhett."

"Now."

And just like that, they fall forward into each other. Rhett's arms automatically surround Link's head as he uses his tongue. It felt both natural and terrifyingly alien. It's not supposed to be happening...but it should be. Rhett doesn't waste time.

Moments into pushing his denim clad cock desperately against Link's clothed ass, he wants to give up. And, he notes, not in the way he morally should be.

"I wanna fuck you. God _almighty_ I wanna fuck you _."_

"Ah," Link breathes, hands splayed over the wall. Rhett feels his hot breath as it gusts from his mouth. "Rhett."

Part of Rhett gets angry when that's all Link can offer to help. The arousal mostly douses that fire, but there's no putting out the flames in his abdomen without a consequence.

"Damn it, Link. Where's your lotion?"

Link whimpers into his arm, and for an icy frightening moment Rhett thinks he might be crying. But,

"Top drawer."

Rhett just about tears the thing out, knocking a majority of the standing items on Link's desk toppling over.

"Shit. Where is it?" he growls, fishing around the pile of once-neatly stacked papers and writing utensils. A person would assume the tiny bottle was gold when he located it.

"What are you doing? Push them down!"

"My jeans?!" Link chirps nervously, as he tugs them down underneath his ass. Rhett knows Link'll answer his own stupid questions, spoken or otherwise, as he coats his forefinger and middle finger in the thick, unscented slick.

Link slaps the wall with less force than intended, causing the framed photo above him to jolt. Evidently, he can't find the strength to illustrate his frustration.

"Oh God," Rhett hisses, ignoring Link's anguish as he tugs his zipper down and takes his fattening cock in his hand. He quickly, and very moistly, pushes it through his closed fist. Doing his best to focus, he uses his free fingers to prod Link's hole.

Initial whining aside, Link aids in moving back on Rhett's thick fingers in cooperation with each warm, wet entrance.

_Wow_. Rhett closes his eyes as the heat punches him in the gut unexpectedly. "Yeah. Just like that."

Link breathes heavily against the wall until it begins to sweat. Almost every exhale comes with a whimper of sorts, out of his control.

"Deeper...deeper baby, you got it."

"Rhett," Link trembles. His own cock had been trapped against the tight restraint of his skinny jeans since they started this endeavour. He can feel the tip begin to dribble. "Gimme the real thing."

"Is it-"

" _Yes_ dangit!"

Rhett takes the urgency into stride. He feels a pang of regret for not putting a condom on, but they were in the office. Finding one in here was unlikely, if not impossible. Unless there were things the crew weren't telling their bosses.

"God!" Link gasps. The pearly head of Rhett's dick disappears inside; shivers overwhelm them both almost simultaneously. "Ah! Rhett!"

Rhett grits his teeth to contain an embarrassing moan. _Shit, what a time to worry about dignity_.

"Slow! Rhett, oh god. Stop, stop!"

"What?" Rhett grunts, freezing in place.

"Keep..." Link pauses. Rhett can see water glisten in the corner of his eye. "Keep going."

Rhett inches in further. If he wasn't already rather proud of himself, his cock would be his sole aspect of admiration. After all, he thinks distantly, this wouldn't be as tedious if he had a _small_ dick, would it?

"This isn't humping," Link babbles, mostly to himself. "This isn't humping."

"Stay still," Rhett orders, administering a rough grip on Link's shoulder as he begins to rock his hips back and forth. They shudder with feeling.

"Link...you have no idea," Rhett sighs, overwhelmed. " _Gosh_."

Unprepared, Link is jolted forward with a thrust and almost headbutts the wall in front of him. His legs, unable to handle any more of this nonsense, gradually give out and he slides to his knees as Rhett pounds into him from behind. They discover he can move more fluidly in this position anyway.

So he does, fingers indenting Link's soft fleshy hips as he delivers hard thrust after hard thrust. The sounds of their sex alone makes Link's denim situation even worse.

"I have to..I gotta undo," Link chokes, fighting his whines to no avail. "My pants.." Rhett licks his lips, beating Link to the zip to get a handful of his warm dick, hard as ever. He'd seen it soft, no doubt, but.

He isn't sure if he feels ready to see it hard, ridiculously enough.

"Feels so freaking...good, oh god," Link makes an effort to swallow, having been absentmindedly watering at the mouth.

Being on the receiving end was another story entirely. He'd never seen himself in this particular position in his future, but he'd secretly wished he'd find a way.

"I'm gonna cum," Link mumbles breathlessly. Rhett keeps a steady hand on him.

"Already?"

Link huffs, finally removing his glasses so he can lean his head on the floor. "Shut up."

Rhett lets a moan escape when he thrusts in to the hilt, hips and dark curls flush against Link's skin. This prompts careless noises between the two, the edge of shamelessness finally reached as they let themselves loose.

Rhett doesn't have too much to say besides dirty things, and all Link can do is squeeze his eyes shut and hope he doesn't shoot off too soon. Rhett's husky tone against his ear was becoming too much.

"So _tight_ , so _unused_ ," he whispers, moving fast with his laboured intakes of air. "Wanted to do this. God, wanted it _bad_ , Link. Your ass and thighs...in these jeans."

Link wets his dry throat, throwing his arm around to hold on to Rhett as he was continuously pushed forward. "Mmm...yeah?"

" _Oh_ yeah."

Link can't help but want to hear about it in greater detail. The information trips him up, crashes his train of thought regarding how long he could hold his orgasm. Instead, all he can picture is Rhett's eyes on him, all the times he bent to get something from his lowest drawer...and to lean casually over a counter...and to slip his shoes on. He pictures Rhett's tongue, darting out to lick his bottom lip.

And that's when Link fails to control himself, unable to utter so much as a warning as he cums white and hot onto the floor and Rhett's big hand. Regardless, Rhett fucks into him harder, just to hear Link's sensitivity pushed to the limit. He squeezes the spent, twitching cock in his hand, milking it for all its worth.

"Good, _so_ good Link."

Link claws into the carpet, a mess of high cries and pleasure. Rhett's trembling toy.

The very moment this crosses his mind, Link clenches his hardest. Rhett doubles over, mouth gaping as his orgasm hits him. Beside Link's ear once more, he moans, long and deep and broken. He rides the feeling out for as long as he can, buried in Link's warm heat.

And by Jesus, Rhett doesn't want to leave it.

He doesn't want the potential awkward interaction, or the painful regret, or the self-evaluation.

He wants Link to stay. More than anything else he's ever wanted.

 

 


End file.
